


All that she wants

by lost_spook



Category: Sapphire and Steel, The Power Game (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Crossover, Ficlet, Gen, Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a problem lurking in the bric-a-brac...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that she wants

“Are you sure you’re an electrician?” 

The human of the house was giving him a decidedly suspicious look, so Silver responded with his best and (he hoped) most disarming smile. “A technician,” he corrected her. “There is a difference.” 

He rose from his kneeling position beside the socket and started rummaging through the contents of the sideboard and bookcase. Lady Wilder clearly had enough time and money on her hands – the whole drawing room had been decorated with a vaguely Indian theme, if mostly not particularly authentic. Silver shook his head over the unwise collection of artefacts from conflicting religions, eras, and regions – and the inevitable fakes scattered amongst them. He permitted himself a brief flash of amusement at the thought of what Steel would say if he could see this.

“You don’t like it, do you?” said Pamela Wilder, watching him. She gave a wave of her hand, indicating the room in general and its décor. Her mouth curved into a slight, wry smile. Silver had an eye for these things and her façade – dress, make up, hair, accessories – was impeccable and utterly charming. Beyond that, he suspected, was another matter. “I’m not sure I do any more, either. I was thinking of minimalism next, but it might not keep me as occupied. What do you think?”

“I think you have more than enough items here already,” he said, distracted by the sense of some small wrongness nearby – something emitting power that it shouldn’t have. He put his hands on the cheap replica of a smiling Buddha. A collection of phyllosilicate minerals and water that had probably been put together in this particular form and fired no further away than the East End and was now, sitting here juxtaposed against the genuine articles, beginning to manifest itself as a danger.

“What more could I possibly want?” said Pamela. “Oh, yes, I’m sure you’re right, of course. I have everything, that’s the trouble. I have everything and I am nothing.”

Silver picked up the statuette and turned it around in his hands. It wasn’t harmful yet, but these little disruptive waves would only get worse if it wasn’t neutralised. He did so by crumbling it to dust in his fingers. “It was only a fake,” he said when he caught Pamela raising her eyebrows at him. “I’m an expert.”

“Fake,” said Pamela, with another wry little smile. Silver got a sense behind of it of a melancholy kept well in check, and maybe other emotions too guarded for him to identify. She might, he thought, even have been part of the problem. “I can’t say I’m surprised. It fits.”


End file.
